The Woman Called Lolo, Part 2 - Lost in Rain

For part 1, check the Poetry section.
     There was a time when the rain and sunshine would clash to produce an ethereal sight. Such times were once a joyous memory for Leo but now an unpleasant tick from the past that could not be ignored or forgotten.  The rain and sunshine only served to remind him of what happened 10 years ago. 10 years ago this was an ethereal sight. 10 years ago, Lolo was still here.

     Leo stepped out of his house as he had a thousand times before, but this time it was different. He wasn’t going to work where he would be forced to pretend that he was infected by the smiles and laughter of those who worked around him. He was going to confront his past and let the sadness that felt so satisfying, engulf him.

     Dark storm clouds had moved in; it was pouring rain. There was no sunshine- and that’s how he preferred it. He slowly walked towards the park where he had first met Lolo, all those years ago. He remained nearly thoughtless as he let his feet carry him towards the park that had meant so much to him 10 years ago. He approached the roughly hewn wooden bench, now worn down with age and sat upon it. He looked to his left and saw nothing but the rain streaming down from the sky. Years and years ago, Lolo sat on his left. 10 years later, he still expected to see her but she was gone. His empty mind, suddenly filled to the brim with thoughts of Lolo, threatened to overwhelm him. He could not tell if he was crying or if the heavens were crying for him.

     Oh how he missed the soft touch of her hand on his skin, as she held him close and whispered secrets he would never repeat- even within the confines of his mind. Oh how he missed the scent of pine in her hair that had driven him to the very brink of euphoric insanity. Oh how he missed the first day that he had seen her where the rain met the sun- the sadness and happiness mingling into this one beautiful creature. Oh how he missed Lolo.

     He did not have to close his eyes and yet he could see the day she had died. He was too late as she fell from the bench, her blood dripping rapidly; the rain and sun, a witness. He did not want to confront these memories- he should never have come here. He glanced down at the bench and he could see blood dripping to the ground as it had 10 years ago. It did not frighten him; it made him sad. His imagination was taking a hold of him. 
     He glanced at the ground where the blood flowed downwards like a viscous waterfall. The blood drifted lazily until the words I was here, formed admist the puddles that would disappear in the morning like Lolo once had. He stared at it, not fully comprehending what he was seeing until the rain washed it away, never to be seen again. He could not separate reality and imagination; they felt the same to him. He was about to pinch himself to ensure he was not lost in his mind, when a caressing whisper reached his ears, reminiscent of how Lolo’s voice once graced his life. Then the soft touch of a woman grazed the back of his neck and he knew he wasn’t imagining.